


The Devil I Fear

by Terminallydepraved



Series: Enticed by the Devil, Seduced by God [1]
Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood, Dominance, M/M, Read at Your Own Risk, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Flagellation, Violent Sex, can be viewed as noncon, dubcon, im going to hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:13:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3929503
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terminallydepraved/pseuds/Terminallydepraved
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hisoka tries to get satisfaction from a nenless Chrollo in the only way he can. Chrollo refuses to let him win.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Devil I Fear

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brocon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brocon/gifts).



> Shit's graphic so don't read if you're faint of heart. Intended as dubcon but there's definitely an argument to be made for it being noncon, this is Hisoka we're talking about. Aside from that and the blatant misuse of religious iconography for my own depraved fantasies, please enjoy your smut.

“I don’t need Nen to sense you watching me, Hisoka,” Chrollo called out from behind his book. He turned a page and waited for the magician to reveal himself. Hisoka hadn’t even bothered to use Zetsu, showing just how little consideration he gave the spider in his current state.

Hisoka hummed as he moved out from behind the crumbling pillar. “My my, Danchou, what would be the odds of me stumbling upon you like this? Could it be fate, perhaps?” he lilted, his eyes twinkling somehow in the shadows. He came to stand just outside of the circle of light Chrollo had stationed himself. The abused stained glass above cast shards of color among the light, painting them both in contrasting tones.

The spider paid him no mind and licked his fingers in anticipation of finishing his current page.

“I wonder, where could the other spiders be? Perhaps Machi would accept an invitation to dinner if she’s in the neighborhood,” Hisoka chatted, his hands gracefully shuffling his cards as he cocked a hip. His eyes were heavy on Chrollo’s form, dissecting any reaction his words may have induced. They were met with stony silence and ultimately ignored. Another page was flipped.

He tried again. “Or would Danchou maybe care to be my date for the evening?”

Chrollo took pity on the magician. “Unless you've brought an exorcist with you, I can’t really imagine why you’d deign to grace me with your presence at this point in time.” He regretted speaking immediately, sensing Hisoka rallying from even the smallest acknowledgment.

“Such little sense of self-worth. Just because I can’t fight you at the moment doesn’t mean you don’t still provide some measure of interest,” he crooned, circling around the dilapidated space to stand across from Chrollo’s seated figure. The rosy light turned his hair from roses to blood. “For example, I am ever so interested in knowing why you are out here, defenseless and vulnerable to any predator that may pass by.”

Chrollo merely turned another page, his eyes fixed on the words in utter dismissal. “Predators, regardless of species, have a tendency to know when they are in the presence of their betters. I find little risk here.”

He could hear Hisoka frown. “It is astounding to see your holier-than-thou attitude still survive when you have the aura of a newborn.” His jovial tone carried with it an edge of anger? Frustration? Maybe it was just the bloodlust beginning to ripple off of Hisoka in waves. “I could flay you open and you would be powerless to stop it, Chrollo.”

Chrollo lowered his book, taking his first look at Hisoka since the conversation began. “You could kill me now, but would you feel like a God-killer then?” he reasoned, his expression and voice listless. “I don’t worry for my safety since there is nothing here to threaten me, Hisoka. You aren’t the devil I fear.”

“I could be,” Hisoka offered, striding up to Chrollo’s perch among the rubble to pull the book from his hand, tossing it carelessly to the side. “I don’t have to fight you to enjoy you, Danchou.” Sharp fingers caressed Chrollo’s cheek before gripping his chin tight. “You may not be at your peak, but it’s hard to resist the temptation you present in your current state. I’ve been denied gratification far too often in recent days.”

Hisoka was visibly shaking with the force of his desire, his iron hands capturing Chrollo’s wrists easily. The grip tightened incrementally until the sound of grinding bones filled the air around them. It would be so easy for Hisoka to rip him to pieces, no Nen to soften the blows or ease the pressure. Chrollo stared into yellow eyes blankly, his expression devoid of any response.

“You should treat books with respect, Hisoka.”

“I’m going to fuck you.”

Chrollo closed his eyes and sighed, opening them to stare impassively at the magician bearing down on him. “You aren’t the devil I fear, Hisoka.” The hands on his wrists squeezed brutally and Chrollo felt his left ulna fracture.

“I can be,” he replied, pushing Chrollo down onto the stone slab he had chosen for a reading seat, hours before. Hisoka released his wrists, instead bungee gumming them to the rock above his head. A brutally sharp card followed, pinning his hands against the rock. Hisoka’s face contorted into a near grimace in his pleasure at his bastardized stigmata. His hands now free, Hisoka quickly went to work, eyes never abandoning their search for any sigh of anger, fear, emotion. There was nothing though, and it only spurned him on faster.

Chrollo’s coat was the first casualty of the evening. The leather tore easily in the wake of Hisoka’s nails, littering the rock with ribbons painted like the rainbow. Hisoka caught Chrollo staring at the ruined fabric and leered. “Think of it as your altar cloth, God,” he murmured into his ear, seizing an earring between his teeth and pulling hard enough to tear the lobe. A pointed tongue eagerly lapped up the blood pooling at his clavicle, and Chrollo shut his eyes.

“And this is your blood, spilled for my communion,” Hisoka moaned, thrusting his fully erect cock against Chrollo’s thigh. His hands roved over every inch of his body, tearing through the thin shirt and ripping the zipper from his pants. With his eyes closed, it looked as if Chrollo were sleeping.

Ignoring him.

Praying.

So Hisoka bit deeper, dug his nails in harder, and worked Chrollo’s body until it reacted to his touch. “Come on, God. Where is the fire? The brimstone?” he gasped, inserting a finger with more gentleness than Chrollo had any right to expect. “How can you be God when you paint yourself a martyr?” Another finger so very slowly joined the first. They scissored inside him, pulling out an unwelcome moan. Hisoka rewarded him with a deep kiss, the first of many. Chrollo let him and opened his mouth to the taste of his own blood on the magician’s tongue, letting him partake of the fruit.

“I can be the devil that you fear,” Hisoka crooned against his lax mouth, fingers still pumping and stretching to a rhythm only he could hear. “I’m already the one you couldn’t save.” A third finger joined the rest and Chrollo let out a keening whine, arms tugging at the bonds he couldn’t even see. “I’m the one you let fall from grace, taking so much of you with me.”

The words fell, honey and poison to bleeding ears. Hisoka knew exactly where to press to make it hurt in the most insidious way, bringing his failings and sins to the forefront. Salt sprinkled into cuts and soothed by tender lips. Chrollo twisted against the Nen bonds and felt himself move closer to Hisoka even as the card cut deeper.

“I’m going to fuck the pious indifference off your face and make you see it.”

With that declaration resounding like a benediction, Hisoka removed his fingers and slid himself in. It was dry, burned like rapture, and Chrollo opened his eyes to it. Hisoka was quick to grab his forehead, his fingers moving to force the eyelids from closing again. He wanted to look him in the eye as he desecrated Chrollo’s tattered shrine.

Breathy cries began to fill the air around them as Chrollo lost his composure. Each thrust was hard, dragging, the friction too much and the fullness jarring. Hisoka was nearly lost to it, his hips pumping and his fingers digging bruises into his pale skin. Tears began to coat his cheeks, leaving thick trails that matted his hair. It wasn’t long before Hisoka sought to lick them up too, the tip of his tongue tracing the edges of eyes that begged to be closed.

Hisoka shushed him like a child, his thrusts never slowing but growing easier as he started to bleed. A hand moved to his abandoned cock and stroked it in tandem. Hitching gasps took over from the quiet sobs. Chrollo began to push back into the movements, and it wasn’t long before he was tossing his head, fighting the hand holding him still. Hisoka just held tighter.

“Just look at you, Danchou,” Hisoka began, bungee gumming his eyelids open to free up his other hand. The fingers stroked through his hair, disheveling the gelled locks so they fell in pieces across his face. “God brought low.” He thrust along to every word. “Desecrated.” He forced two fingers into Chrollo’s mouth, muffling his moans and cries. “Another victim to the Devil in the desert.”

Chrollo keened around the fingers, bucking his hips to the thrusts, the words, to Hisoka.

When he came, it was to Hisoka moaning his name like a cursed prayer. The magician removed his fingers from his mouth, coating them in his release and feeding it back to him. It sat heavy on his tongue until Hisoka’s joined it, pushing the sin down his throat. Chrollo’s eyes, red and swollen, found themselves able to close. More tears poured forth to paint his cheeks, glistening in reds, blues, greens.

They, ultimately, were the catalyst for Hisoka’s orgasm. His moan reverberated in the ruined building and the sensation of his release coating Chrollo was the worst sort of anointment. He pulled out after a moment of breathing and took his time taking his fill with his eyes, his body now sated. Gentle hands traced the cuts and bruises littering his body, smearing the mess coating his thighs. A kiss was pressed to his parted lips and the sweetness of it all was at odds with the pain.

“I like this expression, Danchou,” Hisoka whispered, covering his cheeks, eyes, cross-marked forehead with kisses. “What’s God to a desecrator?”

The bungee gum released his wrists but the card remained, his hands bleeding sluggishly around his cross’s nail.

“A casualty, Chrollo.”

Hisoka pulled away with one last kiss to his pinned hands, fixing his clothing and standing. He made no move to free Chrollo. Licking the blood from his lips, he retreated towards the shadows, casting off their shared colors like a wasted offering.

“Hisoka.”

The call was quiet, weak from the abuse suffered. Hisoka turned, his expression so very pleased at the tone. Chrollo stared up at the hole in the ceiling, watching the light above dance by as impassively as Heaven.

“Yes, dear Danchou?”

“You aren’t the devil I fear.” His voice was thin and so serene. “But you are the devil I let hurt me.”

Hisoka froze and God smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow yeah, this was sacrilegious as shit. I wrote this for my friend Vincent as incentive for him to finish proof reading my mafia au batman fic and he strong armed me into posting it for the world to see. I hope you enjoyed your daily dose of sin. Check out my tumblr (terminallydepraved) and let me know how you felt about this! I've never written for hxh before so I'd be eager to hear your thoughts.


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